I'll drink to this

I have just discovered the BEST DRINK EVER.

It wasn't easy - I'm quite fussy when it comes to beverages. I don't like beer. I can't drink ''straight'' coffee. I don't do pre-mixed drinks and can only occasionally stomach a juice. I avoid slurpees, milkshakes, black tea.... the list goes on.

Maybe it's easier to list what I do drink... or rather, the drink I wish I could have every day but won't because it probably has enough sugar to power a rockship to the moon:

A dark mocha thickshake from The Mocha Cafe in Launceston.

Wow.

It was like drinking liquid high-quality chocolate - but cold. So shake, shake, shake... shake, shake, shake... your way over and have one.

Life on a Dessert Island

I wasn’t sure what to expect when it came to food on Hamilton Island. Turns out that like most places it’s a mixed bag

... just more expensive.

Here were some of the more memorable experiences:

Breakfast

We stayed at the Reef View Hotel and the buffet was up there with the best I’ve ever seen (and devoured). There were so many things on offer that despite having three courses each day I still discovered new things to scoff each morning. My favourites were the bircher muesli, poached eggs cooked-to-order and hollandaise sauce on standby, and pancakes with maple syrup and mixed berries - which looked like this:

Lunch

This meal didn’t get much of a look in due to the aforementioned over indulgence at breakfast… but an all-day H20 Cruise adventure included a great lunch: rolls, cold meats and salads.

Snacks

These were mainly in liquid form: Gentleman’s Affair (see picture below - you drink it warm); Espresso Martini; Dirty Martini – shaken not stirred. Got a decent (expensive) ice-cream too.

Dinner

This was where the mixed bag really came in. The seafood buffet (dangerous, really, these buffets) on the Denison evening cruise was great. They laid out everything that had ever swam, crawled or slithered under the sea. And I ate most of them. That was good.

We ordered a pizza to be delivered from Manta Ray Cafe that was not cooked properly. Raw dough is gross. That was bad.

We had pasta dishes at Romano’s that were so tasty I thought the pasta really might be ‘home-made’. That was good.

At the Mariners we had sashimi (see pic below) as an entree, which was nice but only one kind of fish (salmon) so a little uninspiring. Then ordered mussels and a seafood pasta for mains after they told us what we really wanted (coral reef fish) was no longer available. It all tasted nice, but I threw it up later. That was bad.

The Town that Beer Built

I've been reading up on Melbourne's foodie history and it's an interesting stuff. But don't take my word for it. Here's some tipple-bits, courtesy of Flavours of Melbourne by Charmaine O'Brien:
- John Pascoe Fawkner opened Melbourne's first public house. By all accounts the teetotaller was a cantakarous and disagreeable man. Those who ate at his place often had to endure his pontifications and patrons could tell if they were in or out of favour by the size of the meal he served up.

- The first auctions held in Melbourne became quite the social affair as free cold meats, bread, beer, brandy and 'shampagne' were offered to get the crowds in. Many attended the land sales without the faintest intention of lifting their hand to bid ... not so different from auctions in Melbourne now, really. Except for the free food/drink.

- Within the first 12 months of settlement Melbournians had consumed some 2000 gallons of rum, 150 gallons of brandy and who knows how much beer and gin.

- So it's probably no surprise that Melbourne became the brewing centre of the British colonies with 32 of them operating at the height of the industry in 1874.

Parma chapter 2

The conquest for a parma worth talking about continues...
This time I tried out what the TRC has to offer. Parma was acceptable. Ham ditto. And chips ok. But the napolitana sauce was too plain - most likely tinned tomatos. Unforgiveable. Because taste ain't expensive.

Tasty Tassie

I may not have been in the apple isle long enough to call it home, but I have been here long enough to stuff my face at a large number of establishments. So I thought I would share with you my Top 3 Tasty Tassie moments:

3. Breaky at the Village Store, St Helens.

It was open on a Sunday (thank god) and had a brilliant menu option dubbed Salmon Mardi Gras, which I was quick to snap up. I ended up with two perfectly poached eggs sitting on a generous serving of smoked salmon, sliced avocado and sourdough bread - which was all smothered in a delishly lemon hollandaise. A dish that danced in my mouth. They do good coffee too, but hurry: as the business is for sale.

2. Lunch at Strathlynn, Rosevears.

Also open on a Sunday (but strictly a lunch-time venue) I finally got a booking here but Daniel Alps - the chef who's name had graced the venue's title - was gone. I tell you what - I didn't even notice. I eat three courses and none disappointed. The highlight was an amazing dish of sliced, pink roast lamb with beets, spinach and a super tasty sauce. They also have a cheap wine list and views that I'd be happy to die looking at.

1. Black Cow Bistro, Launceston.

I've never really been that mad about meat. Yep, even beef. And lamb. And chicken. So the fact I've picked a steak house as my numero uno tells you something - this place is out-of-this-world awesome or, i've become a carnivore. I'm still not that into meat, but I would be happy to regularly tuck into a melt-in-your mouth, Tassie-reared steak at this place. If only I could afford to. Save your pennies up and treat yourself.

Special August Guest: Daniel ''Parmalicious'' Taylor

Earlier this year, a certain food connoisseur (and blogger) emailed me a Herald Sun story about The Commercial Hotel in Alexandra, Victoria. She thought I might be interested to read the pub's claim to fame of having 30 different styles of Parmagiana, and she knew me too well.

After reading the story and confirming that the pub is the highest ranked venue on http://www.parma.com.au/ I helped organised the two and a half hour road trip with friends (thanks for your help Janelle!) for August.

Once there, another mate Brad tried to convince us to go to Yen Lai Rice Inn Restaurant across the road, but we kindly said: Why not give The Commercial a go first?

They do have other things on their menu, but there was only one section I was interested in: and that was the 29 parmas (I'm not counting the vegetarian one).

Looking at the parma menu it suddenly hit me: normally if I go out for a meal at a new place it's a good bet to go for the parma cause really, you can't stuff it up too much. But here, I was confronted with a choice of parmas and didn't know what to do.

They all look so good, and since I was only going to order one (unfortunately) it was a tough choice. I considered ordering one of the crazy versions, just because they had them, but I had to fall back to my other meal selection technique - which is going with the house selection.

So I ordered 'The Commercial Parma' consisting of a free range chicken breast topped with housemade Napoli sauce, tiger prawns and a special cheese mix.

The breast was nice, thick and juicy - well crumbed and not at all soggy. The cheese mix was great and the prawns quite big. The beer battered chips were big and crunchy and the only quibble I had was that half the chips were under the parma (I prefer them on the side).

In saying that, the salad was a fresh mix of lettuce, onion and carrot with good dressing - so all in all a very tasty meal.

I definitely will be going back at some stage and trying something different. Maybe I'll make it on a Thursday, which is Parmagianaday when there's a $15 parma and pot special.

The atmosphere of the venue is great - a big, country pub with a fireplace warming the dining room, great service, friendly staff and a relaxing environment. An awesome place to eat parmas.

Oh, and extra points for calling it a parma - not a parmi/parmy.

Pictured below are the Commercial Parma, Nacho Parma and Aussie Parma ...

And have a look at the website: www.commhotel.com.au/parma.html

Noice Buns

You know I have a ''thing'' for hot cross buns - I have already confessed that I'm one of those people who start buying them as soon as they are stocked embarrassingly early in the supermarkets (usually January).

And you now know that I have another ''thing'' for cinnamon. Mmmm cinnamon.

So my discovery of the delicious fruit buns available at the Trevallyn Gourmet Bakery at a mere 90 cents a pop each was a joyous one. They are so close to hot cross buns (minus the cross) it's not funny. It's seriously delicious.

And you can buy them all year round.

And in six packs.

Hmmm, maybe this wasn't such a good discovery after all.

Cinnamon Girl

This is my favourite spice. Hands down.

I adore its warmth and earthy tones that work so well in sweet and savoury dishes. At the moment I'm drinking it in chai tea. I'm sprinkling it in my morning porridge. And this morning I had it not only in fruit toast - but also in the cinnamon butter served with it.

I've never had cinnamon butter before - but i'm pretty sure the name covers all the ingredients. It's simple, but lovely. And I think something I'll whip out at home to impress when it comes to fruit toast, scones or pancakes.

Food on paper

Ever wondered what all the food and drink you had consumed in the past week would look like drawn on paper?

Neither had I - until I saw a story in Frankie about an artist who has done just that. (Eight weeks worth, in fact.)

It looks like a lot of food in picture form. Even worse than if you have ever kept a food diary. There's was no point to me doing so, as I would forget to add snacks and deemed some things ''unworthy'' of inclusion. Like a handful of MMs. Surely that can't count?!

Anyway, check out what Dawn has done on her blog. It reminds me of that BBC reality TV show You Are What You Eat where nutritionist Gillian McKeith makes her subject keep a food diary then lays out everything they eat in the past week. Usually it's a table full of burgers and takeout - it always makes you feel sick.

www.hand-made-love.blogspot.com/2010/06/frankie-feature.html

A cake of EPIC proportions.

This year it wasn't just any old birthday for me - it was the horrifyingly significant 3-0. On the upside, the end of an era (in this case my 20s) meant the beginning of a new cakey love.

At my sister's suggestion I ordered a passionate brownie chocolate cake from Le Petite Gateau in Little Collins Street, Melbourne. There was some discussion over the phone as to whether I should order the 40cm x 40cm or the one smaller. As I didn't want a single person to miss out on cake - what a terrible fate - I erred on the safe and more expensive side of the larger cake.

When I suggested picking it up and taking it to the birthday party venue on a train and tram Simon from Le Petite laughed. Oh, how he laughed. ''It's too big'', he explained. ''We don't even have a cake box big enough - we are giving you a crate.''

So I arranged a car, but the closest park I could get was two blocks away. Someone from the shop had to help me carry it - we got a few looks. This is what it looked like (minus the crate):

Now while looks are well and good, everybody knows in the end it's only taste that matters. Boy did this cake taste good. On the bottom was a brownie layer that was full of little crunchie bits which reminded me of rice bubbles. Then there was a thin layer of zesty passionfruit jelly, a thick layer of creamy choc mousse and, finally, a chocolate ganache. Mmmmm. Amazing really - and if you are wondering: Yes, I did eat this entire piece. Even though I was wearing a tight dress.

So the 30-year-old did live happily ever after.

The End.

Don't judge a dish by its... cover?

Burgers can get a bad rap.

I mean, they are in the fast food category so shouldn't be a daily treat. But a good burger is a world away from a typical burger. It's just a matter of finding where the hell they are.

If you are in Geelong, try out Texas Burgers on Mercer Street. They ain't fancy, but they are good.

And if you find yourself Launceston way, you can't go past Burger Got Soul on Charles Street. The name is so apt because here you can find yourself in burger heaven.

You choose the roll you like best - as you should be able to - and there are so many delectable combinations on the menu the only trouble you are likely to have is choosing which one to go for.

A favourite of mine is the Tassie Tempter - a classic combo of beef burger, egg, bacon and fresh crunchy salad items like cos lettuce, beetroot, tomato etc. What lifts this burger into the realms of nirvana is the small, extra touches - like homemade mayonnaise and tomato chutney.

Of course, it all comes down to the pattie - it must be tasty, not fatty. And these two joints tick that box.

Solving the Parma Puzzle

As a born and bred Victorian, I'd grown up assuming chicken parmigiana were revered the world over... but it turns out while they can be found across the nation, no one takes them as seriously as Melbourne pubs.
I can't live without a parma hit every now and then, though, so I'm officially on the hunt to find the best that Launceston has to offer.
The first I tried was at the Cock 'n' Bull British Pub last Friday night - but I'm afraid it got a fail.
The parma was thin and slightly overcooked. The sauce tasted as though it was crushed tomatoes straight out of a tin, with little flavour. The ham and cheese were passable, and it was served with fries - which I consider a far second behind thickly cut chips.
I was starving that night and the parma definitely hit the spot, but I won't be going back for another.
If you think you know where to find the best parma in Launceston and surrounds - don't be shy! Share it with me, and everybody else. Help make the world a better place.

Table for one?

On my wanderings around Tasmania I happened upon a Greek cafe called Kouklas, that has an enviable position facing the Tamar River about 25km north of Launceston.
It was no secret, either, going by the number of cars parked outside and the bustling dining room. But I decided to try my luck anyway, as I figured there must always be room for one more, small person.
"Is it possible to get a table for one?" I asked a friendly-looking waitress.
"No chance," she shot back.
I noted there were a few tables for two around the place, but assumed they were reserved. I wondered if the cafe did takeaway.
"Unless there's one outside?" She said, perhaps feeling sorry for me. But she checked, no such luck.
"Unless you want to share?!" She was happy at this idea.
"That depends..." I hesitated, thinking I would hate to impose upon a couple's romantic interlude.
"Oh," she misread my thoughts: "They're not good looking!"
We both laughed, and I did what she told me: followed and stood meekly by a table that seated an elderly couple while she asked them if they would have me. It was like waiting to see if you are going to be picked last in the school footy side.
They did agree and we made some idle chit chat, while they ate and I stared around at the walls... Two minutes later the same waitress appeared with another, even better, idea:
"There's a table outside in the sun if you want that?"
I did.
I was glad I got a table as it meant I was able to enjoy a delicious spanakopita (that was decidedly more pricey than the one I remember fondly eating in Greece for one Euro 90 cents) and an amazing Greek custard pie that I ordered to takeaway.
But as I sat there, soaking up an unseasonably warm Tasmanian afternoon, I could only conclude that it's not difficult to realise why people avoid dining alone like the plague.

Mini Me(al)

Apologies for the lack of blog updates, but I have a very good excuse: I've moved to Tassie.

Now, to turn to the art of the minature. Just as baby clothes have a way of prompting squeals of amazement and joy from middle-aged women, food on the itsy bitsy side make me go a little ga-ga.

Take this for example:

I'm no beer-drinker, but even I was tempted to get this 'tasting platter' from Zierholz in Canberra. I mean, too cute! And after trying these 60ml versions out you can choose a pint of your favourite to continue your merry way with.

Another minature serving that impressed, was the teeny tiny bottle of milk which comes with a cuppa at the Auction Rooms in North Melbourne. (Note: An awesome breaky venue). I like to think they have found a way to shrink normal-sized glassed bottles.... ah, let me dream.

Then, of course, there are those minature servings that come with any degustation menu.... though you know my feelings on those. So maybe it's just the drinks I like on the wee side. (No pun intended.)

Special April Guest: Fussy Fanny

Food lovers are a dime a dozen. This month, we hear from a much rarer breed: someone who doesn't like to cook, won't tune into MasterChef religiously and could think of a zillion things preferable to sitting down at the dining table to pig out....

I don’t like food.

There, I said it. And before you roll your eyes: no, I don’t have an eating disorder (although I have been accused of having a mental illness), any strange allergy and I am not obese. I’m just a fussy eater and don’t get the fasciation with food.

Let me explain myself. I’m a 30-year-old woman who has never really grown out of eating like a child. Foods I love include: McDonald’s, cheese and vegemite sandwiches, mashed potatoes and chicken twisties.

People are often shocked when I just look at a dish - be it lasagne, a greek salad or even good old pizza - and refuse to eat it. My reasons? I don’t like the look or smell of it.

But how can you say you don’t like it, if you haven’t tasted it, I hear you ask? Easy, I just don’t want to try it.

As you can probably imagine this has affected my life in many different ways. But to be honest, it usually upsets and angers friends and strangers a lot more than it does me. For example... Friend: ‘‘Hey guys, let's go and get Mexican for dinner!’’ Me: ‘‘No, I wont eat anything from there." Friend: ‘‘Indian?’’ Me: ‘‘Nope, nothing there either.’’ After the whole group of friends crack the poops with me, I’m usually dragged off to a restaurant where I don’t eat a single thing on the menu. Then, I get a large cheese burger meal (the only thing I eat from McDonalds) on the way home.

Over the years, I’ve offended my friend's Nonna after refusing to try her lasagne, had a mate accuse me of a being a burden on people and made a friend's new boyfriend cook a whole new batch of mashed potato after he dared to put garlic in the first dish.

Never has my strange ways with food affected me more than travelling overseas. Always weary not finding things I will like on menus during every trip I’ve ever been on, I pack my suitcase full of savoy biscuits and vegemite. Yes, I would much rather eat this than a traditional dish in Thailand, or frogs legs in France.

After befriending a Danish girl in the UK she took me home to meet her family. Her grandmother had a feast prepared for me, including a quiche, duck dish and desserts that I couldn't identify. I was horrified. The family spoke little English, so my friend translated that I wouldn’t eat anything. The Danish conversation went on for some time, with all of them looking at me shaking their heads. I imagine it was something about me being a ‘‘weirdo’’ or ‘‘ungrateful.’’ I sat there and ate nothing.

People are always saying to me: ‘But you don’t know what you are missing out on'. Well of course I don’t and probably never will, cos I’m not gonna try it!

A short list of some of the foods I don't eat:

• Pizza- (There is not one single flavour you could tempt me with.)


• Cheese - (Except for cheese slices...yes yes i know it is plastic...but i like it!)


• Salad (Except for beetroot. No tomato, no lettuce, no capiscum...none of it!)


• Coffee (Never tried it, but I even hate the smell.)


• Chinese broad beans (There is a strange tin of these on my desk as i write this... I will never eat them.)


• Stir Frys (I dont really like things all mixed together.)


• Sushi (I can't even look at it without wanting to throw up.)


• Chicken parma (I love schnitzel, but I hate all the stuff added to parma!)


• Pasta (I do not eat any other pasta except for Spag bol...)


• Curry (Under no circumstances do i eat curry... and don't try and trick me and put it in meals...I will know.)


• Garlic (See above!)


• Kebabs (I just dont like what they look like)


• Sour dough bread (This does not taste like white bread and quite frankly wreaks my meal when I order scrambled eggs and it comes out on this horrible bread.)


• Quiche lorraine (What is this anyway?)


• Fried Rice (Too many things i can't identify in this...)


• Capers (I only recently discovered these...but I will never eat them...)


• Kangaroo (come on....I mean...Skippy?)

It's official

The Fellowship of Food (the fresh new title of the second food group I'm in) met for the second time at Maedaya in Richmond.

Stepping into this ''Izakaya'' was like stepping into a Tokyo bar. But the petite size means it isn't suitable for larger groups so we were seated upstairs in a not-so cosy area.

We left the ordering to our waiters and they brought a range of goods - from chicken strips to thin slices of pork to and pieces of green capsicum - that we were responsible for cooking on small charcoal grills placed in the middle of the table.

Is it just me, or is there a sense of irony in going out to eat only to have to cook the meal yourself?

The food was plain and, depending on whether anyone was paying attention, sometimes burnt. But there were a number of sauces on the table to add flavour. The most interesting being sesame sauce and spicy miso.

It was a fun, group thing to do but just too much effort and too much smoke in the face! My favourite thing was the plum wine and green tea fondant (strangely enough, it works) for dessert.

I can't wait to go back and stay downstairs where the food is cooked for you and all you have to worry about is how to fit everything in that you want to try. Plus the sake.

Be nice, and share

There's a moment that always happens when I'm dining out with a group of people. It happens when the meals arrive, after I've checked out what everybody else has ordered and decided I want to try them all.

It involves me trying to bully others (some very unwilling) to give me some of their food to try. I'm not greedy, I always offer a bite of mine to eat in return. But some people are not interested in what's on other people's plates. They like to keep their's to themselves - capitalist style. Clearly, I'm a commie at heart.

This is why I'm attracted to the idea of dégustation. This French term means "a careful, appreciative tasting of various foods". You don't pick anything from the menu. Instead, the chef designs a range of small courses to illustrate their skill in the kitchen and the best of that season's produce.

On Saturday, I had the dégustation menu at Jacques Reymond in Prahran. It was a flavour sensation and painfully beautiful in presentation.

There were some absolute standouts:
- lemongrass, spinach and rock lobster soup
- a barramundi steak that was caramelised on top with almond and came with an addictive flavoured yoghurt
- venison carpaccio
- both desserts

The first dessert was served in a tiny martini glass with layers of pineapple, passionfruit and banana, liquorice ice cream and honeycomb. The second was four tastes of chocolate that included a dark chocolate mousse I wanted to die for.

Jacques, if you can put out the mousse in a tub, I will eat it all in one sitting on my couch.
The service was lovely, and so was the private room we were seated in. I couldn't recommend this restaurant enough for a special occasion.

There's just one thing I find hard to get over when it comes to dégustation, and that's the serving size. I know, I know, you appreciate it because it is a little taste and that's why you can get through so many courses... but the glutton in me rails against tasting delicious somethings again and again and again without the satisfaction of a full stomach.

Being cross just comes with Easter

Have you noticed the way hot cross buns and Easter chocolate start appearing in supermarkets as soon as Christmas goodies are marked down and shipped out?

I mean, you can buy these Easter wares a good two to three months before the actual Christian event. It's consumerism at its worst... but I love it.

Because even though I know these things are special because they only come around once a year, I love them so much I could eat them all year round.

I know places like Phillippa's have a real rep when it comes to bun superiority, but Baker's Delight traditional taste pretty good to me - and you don't have to line up for them.

When it comes to chocolate, there is nothing better than a Red Tulip Elegant Rabbit. I also have a soft spot for Cadbury Crunchie bunnies and Lindt - but the Elegant is the ultimate.

So much so, that years back my sister and I penned this ode:

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

elegant rabbit

of long ears and short tail.

Your flowing form,

perfection.

Your genteel good looks,

flawless.

Your festively colored foil,

cool to touch.

Yes, so cool, too cool...

maybe i'll just smack you upside the head, crushing your puny cranium and oversized ears against the kitchen table.

Your guileless eyes didn't see that comin, did they?

Now who's elegant bitch.

Special March Guest: Off the Chain

The Dinah's Club special monthly guest series continues with a reflective piece from an eater who found she couldn't handle the tooth.

SOME girls love to shop, others prefer to gossip, but I seek a culinary fix to flavour my world. If eating were a hobby I would have it on my CV; it makes me happy, I do it every chance I get, I’m always hungry for more and I’m actually good at it.

People marvel at the amount of food I consume, they say ''hey check out this freak she has three stomachs or something'' or ''are you cow because you just graze on food all day''. Some are suspicious because for someone who eats so much, and has such a small pie hole, I’m not a very big girl.

So when I recently got my wisdom teeth removed and my diet was suddenly restricted to that of a three-month-old all my joy was pulled out with my teeth.

There’s more to getting your wisdom teeth taken out than the excruciating throbbing of your raw gums, the nausea and looking like an obese drooling chipmunk. It’s the boring menu you’re really stuck with that hurts.

They tricked me like a five year-old by saying I could eat all the ice-cream I wanted but after my second bowl of ice cream for breakfast I realised cold liquids weren’t going to satisfy this swollen fat head.

That’s when my relationship with food turned sour like the milk in my fridge I refused to touch without a spoonful of coffee in it - but hot foods and liquids were also out. It doesn’t leave you with much and I don’t care how many different flavours of ice cream there is – it is just not filling enough!

My mum was trying her best cooking all kinds of soup and trying to puree rice until it looked like dogs vomit but my stomach wasn’t being fooled. Eat jelly they said! Try a smoothie they cried! But really, I’m not interested in having custard for dinner again! And liquid foods are all sweet except for soup, which all tastes the same after you add salt.

This temporary fast I call ‘the suffering’ was over soon enough but my teeth taught me one wise lesson: never underestimate the joy of chowing down a hot juicy steak whenever you want.

And that, my friends, is why they call them ‘wisdom’ teeth.

Curry in a hurry

So on Wednesday night I was among an estimated 17,000 people who ate out at an Indian restaurant as a sign of solidarity against racism.

Mia Northrop must have been freaked out by the fact her ''little'' idea had grown into an international event that even had Premier John Brumby chowing down on February 24.

I organised a dinner for workmates at my favourite Indian restaurant Taj Palace in Footscray. It was a hell of a lot of fun, and a good excuse to socialise and eat nice food.

We didn't talk about violence that much and I wonder what the event proves, or achieves... but it got people together and supported local business.

The owners of Taj were thrilled - it was their busiest night ever. Their suggestion: Have it every night!

Looks might not be everything, but they sure are something

One of the things I became fascinated with during my addiction to MasterChef was the concept of 'plating up'. Taste was never the first thing on judges' minds, but rather how the dish was presented.

It's fair enough, too, when you really think about it. No one wants to try food that looks like spew, so unless you make a dish look at least half decent you've lost the battle before the diner has even popped a morsel in their mouth.

At the second meeting of the first food club (still following?) the appetite of our eyes was tested by a dessert dish at Cumulus Inc which looked like poop served up in a large ash tray / small dog bowl. See photographic evidence below:

The thing is, it tasted fantastic - all crumby bits of anzac biscuit, an amazing chocolate mousse, nut ice cream and pistachio biscotti. It just didn't taste AS good as it would have served on the uninspiring but universally-friendly white plate.

Cumulus became the second venue for the food club now known as the Melbourne Food Collective due to unforeseen circumstance. We were planning to visit Boire in Collingwood. The owners, however, had other plans in mind and without notification on their website shut up shop. The sign on the door read: 'Gone to France'. How French!

I had mixed feelings about the Cumulus experience. The service was impeccable and the vast majority of dishes were delicious. However, at times the servings seemed stingy - particularly the vegetable sides - and some of the offerings a little uninspiring considering the price tag.

A highlight was their leg of lamb. That was how it was plonked on the plate - plain and simple -and the slow-cooked meat fell off the bone with just the slightest encouragement. Served with lemon it was delicious, but what really floated my boat was the side of marinated red onion that, when sprinkled on top, brought it to a whole new level.

Mmmmm lamb.

The most amusing part of the evening was another dessert: Rum Baba, which came with a bottle of rum so you could flavour the dish to your taste. Too bad a sailor was in charge of that one - he was liberal enough with the alcohol to set our mouths alight when we tasted a single bite.

Mi casa tu casa

I've managed to join two food clubs in the past two months.

Both are still sorting out names, and rules (hopefully no1 isn't: You don't talk about the food club) but essentially, it's an excuse to eat out and socialise.

Let's call the second club, Second Club. It's first outing was to Casa Farro - a cute Italian restaurant in Carlton. The interior was irreverant minimalism - stripped back furniture, a wall of chopping blocks and light bulbs strung across the ceiling. With such friendly staff, it was almost like visiting one of your cool friend's houses in Fitzroy.

I started off with a Monteith apple cider - a cracking good one if you've never tried it - and an entree of arancini. This set a very high standard. The crust was thin and crunchy and the inside was an explosion of moorish flavour with a filling of chewy rice, pumpkin, peas, mozzarella and fennel. I could have eaten these balls of goodness until I exploded... but instead moved on to mains.

We ordered just about everything on the menu and shared it around. The thin-crust, wood-fired pizzas were top notch, as was the gnocchi. Some of the pasta dishes and a rissotto failed to excite.

But the best was yet to come. The dessert platter sounded good, and tasted even better. There was macadamia icecream, biscotti, sticky date and fig pudding, an Italian donut in lemon curd, chocolate pot and vanilla & raspberry brulee. Each was lovingly presented and tasted delicious. I wolfed it all down with a delightful pinot gris from Mount Langi.

If home-cooked meals tasted that good, I'd never go out for dinner.

I'll eat anything except....

Everybody has something they hate to eat. I avoid zucchini like the plague and would rather eat cadavar than mango (smells like death anyway, so why not?)

I wonder how it happens?

Does it hark back to a traumatic experience of being force-fed as a child? Or slipping on the offending food and injuring yourself? Or touching the item when it was attached to zapping electroydes, a la Bart Simpson and the cupcake style?

I met a guy once who hated fruit and vegetables. Seriously. He couldn't stand even the smallest item of nutrition. To the extent that he would peel the two pieces of pickle from his Big Mac before eating it. I guess when he looked at a watermelon, it looked like this one.

I suppose, if you're hungry enough you'll eat anything. But my appetite disappears when I see offal of any description, deep fried bugs, chicken feet, eye balls... the list goes on.

And why force it? When there's so much stuff I love eating out there, it'd be silly to waste valuable time eating something icky? Unless you hate fruit and veg. If that's the case you should force feed yourself, or die young.

Dumping the Dumpling

I'm going to admit I have a problem, because I know that is the first step on the road to recovery.

I'm addicted to dumplings.

It doesn't really matter what sort - pan fried, steamed, deep fried... I just can't get enough of those pop-in-your-mouth explosions of flavour.

When I travelled in Japan, I ate gyoza every day.

When I was shown how to make my own Nepalese version (Mo Mo) it was the end of me. It meant I had 24-7 access to such tasty morsels... and no one in a restaurant to judge me when I had seconds, thirds and fourths.

It's just too easy.

Step 1: buy a packet of pre-made circle dumpling pastry from an asian grocery (the japanese version with the smiling chef on is best).

Step 2: buy 500g pork mince and 500g chicken mince. Mix it with an egg, garlic, onion and spices to taste (i like chilli, tumeric, cumin).

Step 3: dollop spoonfuls of the mince into the pastry and close into whatever shape takes your fancy. Steam them for 15-20mins

Step 4: Serve them with whatever sauce floats your boat. I like making my own: onion, tomato, coriander, cumin seeds.

Yum.

Or just eat out at places like Camy Shanghai Dumpling Restaurant in Tattersalls Lane and the Oriental Tea House in Collins Street.

If being an addict is wrong, I don't want to right.

Catch of the Day

What is it about going for a swim in the ocean that prompts cravings for fish n' chips?

As soon as I dive under a wave I start dreaming about battered flake, golden potato cakes and crumbed calamari - doused in lemon and tartare sauce.

During a week's holiday at the beach I had F n' C twice: the first was disappointment. We went to a place in Barwon Heads that's at the round-a-bout as soon as you come off the bridge, because Gilligan's was already closed for the night. It all tasted lovely, but everything came pint-sized in cardboard boxes.

We got the real stuff a couple of days later at Ocean View Fish and Chips - massive pieces of flake that were served up the way they should be served up: wrapped in paper.

It tasted all the more satisfying considering we had just been fishing and hadn't caught a single thing.